


Red

by MidnightMoonWarrior



Category: Red Tails
Genre: Brotherly - Freeform, Courage, First story ever in this section!, Passion, Pride, Red - Freeform, Sadness, Strength
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 04:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightMoonWarrior/pseuds/MidnightMoonWarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was fitting; that the color, no, their signature was the color to represent them against the blue backdrop. It captured everything they stood for, without saying a word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the wonderful movie of Red Tails.
> 
> AN: This is a ramble, I really don't know where it came from.
> 
> I hope you like it though!
> 
> Reviews would be wonderful!

The first indication of it belonging was that it was vibrant, the way it shone in the sun's rays. It was deep, a brilliant mix of a deep crimson and a pure white, somehow fitting in with the gray tones of the planes.

It was chosen, as the rumor within the camp went, because it represented intensity, power, and strength; features that every flying force was to show in every movement.

Although some thought it was just a joke from the Major about the men's' indiscretions with some of the ladies, reminding them with the color of love, passion, and desire. They all agreed that it was better than pink or a light blue; at least it was a manly color.

No one assumed what it truly stood for, if the first or last definition was the correct one. Strength or passion; it ended up being both.

Strength, they had always had that; it just dawned on the rest of the world when they were finally allowed in the air for combat. Demolition and destruction, the good kind of course, had proven their worth that they had always had.

Some disagreed with the color choice, but of course if you look at anything enough; it starts to grow on you. It became a relief, since, as Lightning had so elegantly put it, you knew it was your fellow "dumbass airmen, not a pretty boy German".

It soon became their calling card, the bomber pilots asking specifically for them by no other name than the 'Red Tails'. Somehow the name had stuck, how could it not?

The passion aspect became more apparent when the rogue pilot had sought out and began seeing his sexy lady, who didn't speak English although that had never stopped him before. The second meaning meant more when Deacon pleaded to the heavens his desire for help, for him to live another day.

It seemed that their painted tails represented not just one thing, but many.

Pain and anger came later, when they lost Junior to a mistake, one that should never have taken place. No one understood why Lightning had wanted to punch his best friend once they were on the ground, but the truth had come out soon enough.

Courage brought a new wave a belief; the soon to be iconic (as Smokey had remarked confidently) tails watching the men as the huddled together before their biggest mission yet. The red brought hope, that they would be the last ones standing, no matter the cost.

"From the last plane, to the last bullet, to the last minute, to the last man, WE FIGHT!"

The words engraved themselves into ever man's mind, as well into every plane as the words echoed off the metal chariots. Nothing could prepare them, yet somehow the red surrounding them as they took off reminded them that they were not alone in this fight.

Blood, which seemed like the simplest explanation of the color, was one of the last words to be connected to the bright paint. The tail was the last part Easy had seen, they had all seen, before the violent crash. Red was the last thing he had seen, after the silence had reached his ears, before the burning orange. Later, the wreckage had been collected; rumor being that the only evidence that a person had been in the plane was blood dried on the metal.

The new recruits were always told when they asked, and they always asked; that the red tails represented strength for one's country and love for one's fellow men. Most associated courage with the color anyway; few asked why one of the best pilots scowled bitterly when he saw alcohol or why the originals (also known as old timers) smiled sadly when passion was mentioned.

But as the legend grew and the story told and retold of the Red Tails, few realized why the color was that way to begin with. Turned out that the colors on base had been red and green, the major decided on the first since it was different, like his pilots; yet it meant much more.

The color had become them, their legend, their pain, their accomplishments, and every moment in between; which is one of the reasons why we remember them. Despite what the color may or may not have represented while on their airplane tails, they had proven that not every interpretation of them was right and that every meaning of the color was not necessarily wrong.


End file.
